


Black Is Love's Potion

by awriterisfine



Series: Devil's Carnival [2]
Category: Glee
Genre: Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-30
Updated: 2012-11-30
Packaged: 2017-11-19 22:51:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/578493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awriterisfine/pseuds/awriterisfine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Porcelain Doll!Kurt and Scorpion!Sebastian. Based on "The Devil's Carnival." Two lovers in hell. And one deadly carnival. ONESHOT</p>
            </blockquote>





	Black Is Love's Potion

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: Based off of "The Devil's Carnival." The songs used are "Trust Me" and "Prick Goes The Scorpions Tale" I do not own them.

A whistle pierced the practice room. Acrobats, magicians and fire spinners of the like halted their work to gather around the call master. Red tracksuit, clip board in hand, and raging as the devil himself would, it would be stupid not to come as called. Especially if one wanted to retain their spot in the show.

“Line up for the showing,” the call master barked, “The Unholy Trinity will be the first act.”

Three girls stepped up to the side, dressed in burning red costumes, skirts flaring and corsets sewn up tight, no one would try to take their spot. The last group that attempted it ended with their tongues cut out and an extra ticket out of the carnival.

“Porcelain,” came the next order and a boy sauntered up past the rejects, delicate steps like china, “You’ll set the show up for the finale. Then we have the Scorpion.”

No one stepped up.

The call master glared around, daring anyone to speak up, “Well, what do we have here? A rebel in hell, how original,” she blew her whistled, “Doll face,” Porcelain turned to face her, annoyance plastered across his pale face, unmarked except for the cracked lines running up the right side of his face.

“You called,” he asked, unblinkingly.

“Get your boy toy out here before his performance. We don’t need him running amuck before we even begin. He’s your responsibility, and he’d better be here.”

***

Blaine stepped from behind the barrels of hay, lost and disoriented, unsure how he found himself in a carnival nonetheless.

“Look what hell dragged in,” came a smooth talking voice and Blaine jumped, wide eyed at the imposing figure before him, dressed in an old leather jacket and hair slicked back, though not as gelled as Blaine’s own hair.

“What?” He asked.

“Cute,“ the figure smirked, “The school boy routine is very hot, and I can’t deny that.”

Blaine sighed, ignoring the blush that creeped over his skin, “Look, can you just help me find a way out of this place?”

The man walked up to him, and grasped Blaine’s hand, dusting a kiss at his knucles, “I can promise you a better night than just booking it out of here,” he stretched up to his full height and gave his most charming smile, sharp and deadly, “Actually, you would be perfect for my act.”

“Act?”

“Yes,” the man nodded, “I’m afraid my lovely assistant left me high and dry, but I think I’ve found someone much more lovely. If you’ll only follow me,” he held out his hand and his grin grew impossibly sharper when Blaine took it.

***

“Are you sure this is safe…I mean…it’s only an act…right?” Blaine asked, maybe a little too late in the game. His wrists were bound to the circular wheel, brightly painted with red and white spirals, a bright yellow star plastered in the middle. The man was working on his ankles.

He stood up to place a kiss on Blaine’s lips.

“There you are,” came a voice from behind and the man turned jerkily around, “Dammit, Scorpion, you’re on tonight.”

The man, Scorpion, laughed, “Oh, Doll Face…or should I call you Gay Face?”

Porcelain laughed, hollow and echoing in his chest, “You’re one to talk. Scorpion, ha, more like a smirky meerkat than anything.”

Blaine watched the exchange with curious eyes. The boy that had walked in was as unusual he had ever seen. A fitted waist coat that flared at the back, which reminded Blaine more of Victorian woman’s fashion than anything he expected to see on a man. Make up highlighted the blue eyes that were trained on Scorpion, not even giving Blaine a glance. It wasn’t until he shifted closer to Scorpion, movement stiff and doll like, that Blaine caught sight of the gaping lines etched into his skin…broken porcelain.

“You always go for the same type, I almost wish you’d be original,” now his attention was trained on Blaine and not Scorpion, “So typical of you. Though, I suppose he’s pretty enough. And I see you’ve found somebody who wears more hair gel than your 50’s hair and clothing ensemble,” his eyes landed on Blaine in mock disgust, more amusement than anything, “I won’t lie, this performance will be enjoyable to watch,” he backed away from Blaine, grinning at the green sweater and bowtie, but only so that he was out of the wheels range.

Scorpion began to hum a tune, Porcelain following the motions of the lyrics.

“You’re a tough little tadpole to love  
Naughty lilies and lures. I was knocked to the floor  
Never tasted as sweet a poison as you have  
You’re an urge that can never be cured  
You’re a bad little love and I’m yours.”

Porcelain mocked him.

“So trust me, trust me, darling dear  
I’m so sincere, there’s no need to tear.  
Trust me; trust me, honeydew  
Just like I trust you”

Scorpion hitched a knife from his pocket, twirling it between his fingers, contemplating his throw.

“How…how do I know you won’t hurt me?” Blaine asked in a daze.

The Scorpion replied, “Because my act is dead without you,” he sealed it with a kiss.

He backed far away from the wheel and continued singing, tossing one, then two knives, each landing only a breath away from Blaine’s body.

“Babe, you’re a hard game to catch  
You fight and refuse, you’re a wild little [bruise]  
Never tasted as sweet a poison as you have  
You know, you never can hide.  
You’re a bad little love and you’re mine”

The doll was dancing around the wheel more enthusiastically, painted lips turned up in pleasure.

“So trust me, trust me, darling dear  
I’m so sincere, there’s no need to tear.  
Trust me, trust me, darling, do.  
Just, like I trust you.”

The Scorpion sent him a wink as he tossed his remaining knife, slipping straight through the frog’s heart.

“So don’t cry, cry, baby, All dressed in green

How many kisses do you need?

One for your tummy, one for your cheek

One for the devil inside of me.”

Scorpion gave a bow, grin all mocking and smirky, “I believe you’re up next. Lady Porcelain.”

Porcelain rolled his eyes, but took center stage, stealing a kiss from the Scorpion.

“I see you enjoyed the show as much as I enjoyed playing my part?” Scorpion questioned with a quirk of his eyebrow.

Blue eyes flickered to the trapped body, pinned with a dagger though its heart. He didn’t try to hide the smile on his face or the sparkle in his eye, “At least you kept to the script this time,” he pushed Scorpion into a chair and began his song.

“Black, black is love’s potion  
We drink, we drink from its well  
And in their name, let’s drink to true love  
For a toad and a scorpion fell  
Yes, in their name, let’s drink to true love  
For true love can break the spell (for true love can break the spell)”

He sent a wink to his captive audience. He kept his voice mocking and gentle, as if he were giving the most important advice he could.

“Awake from your dream, frog maiden  
Skin green as the emerald sea  
Let me tell you a tale of a love that did fail  
Prick, prick, prick! Goes the scorpion’s tail.  
She blushed as she walked by the water  
Having known him the evening before  
She liked how he spoke, but aware of his poke  
Prick, prick, prick! Goes the scorpion’s tail.”

Scorpion raised his knife in salute as Porcelain raised a glass, taking a swing of the drink. Each word was meant with a dramatic hand gesture, over his head, twisting his body as a puppet being operated by a skilled puppeteer.

“Oh love, it is foolish and green, my love  
How quickly we forget the sting, my love  
What a pretty and dangerous line, my love  
What bitter yet delicious wine, my love  
With a prick of his prick he surprised her  
Shell red as the rose in his teeth

Fair maiden, join me. Let us ride out to sea”  
Prick, prick, prick! Goes the scorpion’s tail.”

Suggestive and flirty was what was called for next as he stalked the frog, stroking one long finger down his cheek, grinning to himself as he turned his head back to his captive audience, a flirtatious grin steeled their way as he draped himself over the body.

“She pondered if his love was poison  
But he pricked her so gently she swooned”

He arched back, a wild hand gesture in the air to rest delicately against his forehead.

“His words were like wine as their fates intertwined  
Prick, prick, prick! Goes the scorpion’s tail.  
“Oh love, it is foolish and green, my love  
How quickly we forget the sting, my love  
What a pretty and dangerous line, my love  
What bitter yet delicious wine, my love”  
She offered her back like [Demuree]  
He climbed and they swam out to sea

She stroked at she smiled, and his stinger went wild”  
 Prick! Prick! Prick! Prick!  
Prick! Prick! Prick! Prick!  
Prick! Prick! Prick!  
Goes the scorpion’s tail."

Porcelain stalked over to the Scorpion, ignoring the jeers from the rest of the audience, and sat across his lap, playfully stealing the dagger and pressing it against his own throat, deepening his voice at the last note. A slice of blood drew from his skin and he slid his tongue through the crimson rubies before shoving the knife back to Scorpion to take center stage once again.

“Black, black is love’s potion.  
Take heed, take heed of the thorns.  
Don’t spring when it stings  
Remember that you were warned. Come”

He lamented over the tale, taking a hand and pushed away the button up shirt, gasping when he broke through his body and jerked when his heart was pulled from his chest cavity to beat in the palm of his hand, presenting it to Scorpion, who gladly stood from his seat.

They traced each other’s movements, back and forth across the stage in a makeshift fight. Each lunge dodge and each time they reached within proximity to each other a kiss was stolen, rough and unyielding until the next counter attack.

“Drink! Drink! Drink! Drink!  
Drink! Drink! Drink! Drink!  
Drink! Drink! Drink! Drink!  
Drink! Drink! Drink! Drink!  
Drink! Drink! Drink!  
A cup of my scorn!”

“Aren’t you just the pretty little sinner tonight,” Scorpion asked over the cheering crowd, pulling

Porcelain flush against his body, enjoying the dark flush in his eyes and the catch in his breath.

“Don’t you just throw away your toys,” Porcelain teased, ghosting a hand across Scorpion’s chest.

Scorpion traced the broken pattern on the skin laid on in front of him, “Only the new ones. It’s the normal ones that get boring. I prefer them a little more cracked at the edges.”

“Good,” Porcelain said, moving his hand up to trace invisible lines along Scorpion’s collar bone, “Because I prefer them to be a little cut throat.”

“I thought my act was to go for the heart.”

“Then it’s a good thing I don’t have one,” Scorpion leaned down to kiss him on the lips, grinning when it was reciprocated.

“It’s a very good thing,” he mumbled into Porcelains lips, gripping his waist tighter, moaning when he felt sharp fingers run through his skull.


End file.
